Red and Gold Boy
by seafeather-ono
Summary: A series of drabbles about the Prewett twins, notably Gideon Prewett.
1. Together

**A/N: **Warning - severely sad feels may ensue. Hope you like this little drabble, please leave a review!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, never have, never will.

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It was supposed to be a simple scouting mission. Check if the Death Eater safe house was occupied; get any additional information they could without making actual contact. That was what Moody had said, anyways, but it was hard to tell with his constant vigilance nonsense when to actually worry and when the Auror was just being paranoid. Gid tended to err on the side of Moody being paranoid, much to Fabian's frustration. Gideon understood his twin's position – it wasn't like the Order missions were harmless pranks – but he also couldn't stand the heaviness of the atmosphere in Headquarters. After the Bones died, well, grimness seemed to settle into every interaction. Besides, the wizard figured their differing perspectives would help the duo anticipate surprise attacks. He hoped.

He'd asked Marlene to hold dinner at least till eight, a time that had passed over an hour ago. Part of Gideon's mind marvelled at his ability to worry about his girlfriend whilst he was flinging curses left, right, and centre. The other part was silently screaming HOLY SHIT on repeat.

The mission was an unequivocal failure – and Gid couldn't figure out why. He and Fab had apparated the requisite mile away from their target. They'd used the appropriate stealth charms, and hadn't even argued about who would take point. Everything was going exactly as it should. But when they made visual contact with the tiny house, tucked away inside a lonely windswept hill, the brothers heard a bloodcurdling scream. Locking eyes with Fabian, Gideon knew they were going to break protocol. They were going to investigate. And it was going to kill them both.

They took off sprinting straight away, afraid of what might be going on inside the house, of what could happen if they didn't make it fast enough. He couldn't remember the last time he'd run this quickly – he couldn't feel his legs burning or the wheezing in his chest, just an urgency to get there now. The ground was rough and uneven, the grass long and prickly. With each stumble and recovery, Gid felt his heart thud against his chest. The only sound was the panting of the twins; the stillness hadn't been broken by another scream. And still they ran, past caring if it was too late.

He supposed it wasn't the quickest way to travel, but something had a hold of Gideon, and he wasn't sure he could apparate just then. It felt as though coldness had crept inside his heart, and he looked round frantically, half-expecting to see a dementor, but there was nothing but open ground. They'd finally reached the safe house, which remained strangely dark and quiet, when the Dark Mark burst above their heads and they were surrounded by a swarm of Death Eaters. Automatically, he and Fab went back to back, their wands raised, circling in place. If the brothers were hoping for some warning or message, they waited in vain. There were four Death Eaters, each masked and hooded as to be indistinguishable from the next. The air crackled with tension, and then, on some prearranged signal, they struck.

This was no shot across the bow. Gideon barely had time to react before he was ducking and dodging and firing curses at the two on his side of the circle. Instinct took over and he and Fab were working as a team, weaving and parrying. They had fought like this before, taken on larger groups, just the two of them, and still come out unscathed. Something seemed different now - they were fighting fiercely, harder than they had ever before, but to no avail. It seemed as though the Death Eaters were incredibly much stronger than the twins... Adrenaline thudded through his veins as the weight of realisation came crushing down. There was more at play than a simple ambush… there must be. But this wasn't the time to worry about deeper motives or plots; this was the moment to fight. He had just incapacitated one of the attackers through a quite nice combination bat-bogey-hex and rebounded stunner, when Gideon heard something inside the safe house. Then the coldness came back, and he felt Fabian's back tense in response. He nearly jumped when the door opened, and the owner of the scream walked out.

"Dolohov," Fabian breathed, and then the fighting resumed, more intense than before. Fabian was able to paralyze one of the Death Eaters, and Gid gave another a bad burn. But it was Dolohov who had control now. He seemed to be doing something to the twins, who both found their strength sapping away. It felt as though thousands of pins were stabbing Gid, trying to pierce his skin and leaving a curious lasting ache.

"It must be that curse he's developing," Fabian whispered, but Gideon had no breath to reply. It seemed only to work on one of the brothers at a time, but Gid knew that soon neither would have enough strength to fight, for its lingering effects were almost as bad as the curse itself.

"Fight it, Fab," Gideon said, his breath coming in short little gasps. But his brother was getting weaker, and Gideon saw with a moment of rare clarity the solution. One of them could handle the last two Death Eaters – if the other eliminated Dolohov. Before he could move, the burned Death Eater sent a curse spiralling towards the twins and everything seemed to slow. Gid saw the curse out of the corner of his eye, and saw where it would hit. The wizard twisted, taking it in his shoulder so it didn't hit Fabian.

A bloom of bright red hurt seared across Gideon's side, and his lip bled from his teeth digging in so the scream couldn't escape, the scream that would kill Fabian. His golden plan was useless now, it was clear the curse was spreading too quickly and all Gideon wanted was for Fabian to get out, to make it home, to go on. He seized his brother's hand, reassured by the fierce pressure he felt in return, and images flashed across his eyes – the twins at Christmas, before Hogwarts, their matching footies smeared with chocolate; the family dinner last Sunday at his parents' house, with Fabian laughing and Molly looking sternly at Arthur and Marlene holding his hand beneath the table; the first time he saw Hogwarts, its bright windows gleaming with promise; a summer afternoon in the garden with Marl, happy just being together; his nephews, chasing him round the house one winter day, their faces as red as their hair; that bright fall day with leaves falling – and he let go.

This was it. This was the end. Gideon surged forward, his wand raised, a fierce gleam in his eyes. This would be his last act, and it would work. It would have to. His sacrifice would save Fabian, who would tell Molly what had happened and comfort their mother and let Marlene rage at him. And Marlene would be alive and cheering over the wireless for Falcons in her socks and a tee shirt, her hair coming undone, a sparkle in her eyes... Gideon opened his mouth, a final spell on his lips, but then Dolohov was upon him. The air rang with the sound of curses, but Gideon only heard a roaring in his ears as Dolohov's curse hit home.


	2. Just Another Day

**A/N:** Here have some Prewett twin goodness. Or as we like to call it, Prewonder twins. Anyway, enjoy! Set the summer after Gideon and Fabian graduate.

**Disclaimer:** JK owns everything.

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Like all the Saturdays he'd been working at the bar - strange to think it was already three - Gideon had a double shift. Dressing quickly, he grabbed a muffin on his way out the door, the clock ticking ever closer to 8:45, the absolute last minute he could leave home and disapparate within walking distance of the bar. If he wanted to rush, that is, and most mornings Gideon didn't mind either way. He'd long ago realised he could either wake up early, or rush. With all the Statute restrictions, there wasn't another way.

Ducking out into the garden, Gideon paused for a moment to enjoy the bright summer blooms, which had required copious coaxing to even sprout; then turned on the spot and vanished with a pop. He reappeared, still clutching the muffin, in a narrow alleyway, invisible to the main road. Blinking quickly to adjust to the gloom, he turned on his heel and began the walk that had become routine - up three blocks, cross the street, turn right, and there it was. Maclaren's Pub. Place of employ for one Gideon Prewett, among others.

Hastily stuffing the rest of the muffin in his mouth, Gid marched into he alley that neighboured the bar, a place frequented only by delivery trucks and employees. Swinging the battered door, open, Gideon waved hello to the owner and headed for the bar, to take inventory before restocking.

The morning passed quickly; the kitchen was doing such brisk business that Gideon was called to help wait tables. By the time the lunch rush was over, he was back behind the bar, though this was not the respite it seemed. The football match that afternoon was Leeds vs. Manchester United, and the rivalry was fierce. Between the thirsty sports fans and the crowd they brought with them, it seemed as though the lunch rush had never truly ended. Before the match had ended there'd been three punches thrown, countless insults to the ref and opposing team, one proper fight, and six people ejected from the bar; the last of whom Gideon had seriously considered stunning. Still, it was better than the week prior, when Arsenal had played Manchester United.

The evening passed incredibly slowly, perhaps because it could not live up the the business of the morning and afternoon. Gideon liked the bar better when it was busy; he didn't have to entertain himself. Besides which, his thoughts that night kept going in circles and there was a knot in his stomach, as if something was wrong; but that just had to be paranoia. And even if it wasn't, there wasn't much he could do about it.

Closing the bar was a pain that night, if only because of the mess the football fans had left; a mess that had been left until the end of the night to deal with. And so it was an exhausted Gideon who walked back to his apparition spot, who stumbled into the house; who dazedly climbed the stairs and passed out on his bed, asleep before his head even touched the pillow. He didn't notice that Fabian's bed was empty, or that the house was dark. He certainly didn't notice the piece of parchment that had been lying on his bed, that he was currently lying on top of, without a care in the world.

Gideon slept late on Sunday, then headed straight for the shower. It was nearly noon by the time he headed downstairs for breakfast, but the Daily Prophet lay on the table, the headline blazing _"Ministry of Magic Lockdown; Minister concedes two open positions; Seventeen casualties."_ Below was a picture of the Minister of Magic, gesticulating wildly as though giving a speech.

Gideon stared blindly at the paper, unable to read the article that followed, his heart racing and chest aching. "Fab?" he shouted, the sound echoing in the house. "Fabian?!" His voice was shrill now, but the house remained silent. There was no reason Fabian had to be affected… but then again, there was no reason he wasn't. And the empty house suggested something was up. Fab hadn't been in their room, Gideon was sure he would have noticed if he had, but still Gid ran the two flights of stairs, hoping that maybe Fabian had been under a pile of blankets, maybe he was safe.

The room was empty, but Gideon saw the now-crumpled parchment on his bed, and, his hands shaking, read the hasty note that Arthur had scribbled: _"Fabian's okay, just being a tad pigheaded about going to St. Mungos. Meet us there."_ and it felt like his chest had been suddenly filled with air, and he was going to float away…

The trip to St. Mungos passed in a blur; somehow Gideon made it to the fourth floor and the ward with Fabian, where his parents were standing guard. Hugging them both quickly, Gideon went inside, startled to see his twin propped up, cheerfully eating jell-o. "You made it!" said Fabian, sounding not entirely himself and as though he'd had one dose too many of pain-relief potion. Gideon couldn't help but laugh. "So I did. So I did."


	3. Something Like Relief

**A/N:** Some background for this: Alice had been kidnapped, and it was two weeks before she was discovered. Gideon and Fabian have moved into their own flat. Oh, and Winnie is Alice's mum.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, never have, never will.

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Gideon had been coming in from his shift at the bar that morning, barely through the door, when the owl had arrived. He'd recognised it immediately, how could he not, when it had carried letters and presents for so many years.

They'd been waiting for two weeks now; waiting, and hoping that there'd be some news, that Alice would be all right. But the longer it had gone on, the more it became apparent that this could end two ways. And the second… Gideon wasn't sure if he'd rather have this endless state of doubt than know, without doubt, that he'd never see Alice smile again. And so it had taken him several minutes just to open the parchment - he, who was supposed to be a Gryffindor.

_Gideon,_

_I'm writing from St. Mungo's - Alice is here, she's alive. Not exactly well, but under the circumstances…  
I'm sure you and Fabian want to see her, but could you wait until tomorrow? She really needs her rest,_

_-Aunt Winnie  
26 September, 1997_

He must have read the letter ten times, but still the words hadn't sunk in. Alice was okay. The worrying - it was over. And though Gideon was pleased, relieved, so very _thankful_, he still felt numb.

Clearing his throat, Gideon called, "Fab?" the words too loud in the quiet apartment. And louder: "Fabian?" There was an edge to his voice, an urgency, but he didn't have to shout again - Fabian came running, going white at Gideon's expression and the piece of parchment still clutched in his hands.

"Is it Al?"

Gideon nodded jerkily, holding out the letter reflexively. "It's fine, Fab. She's fine."

Fabian sagged, seizing the outstretched letter and reading it hastily, a grin slowly spreading on his face. "Of course she's fine. Bloody stubborn, she is. _Of course_ she's okay." He laughed shakily, stopping when Gideon didn't join in. "This is good news, idiot."

Gideon gave himself a little shake. "Right. Of course it is. It's bloody brilliant." But the words sounded hollow, somewhat, and Gideon didn't know what to else say. He was ruining this, he was ruining Alice beating the odds…

Fabian raised an eyebrow and pulled out one of the kitchen chairs. "Out with it."

"With what?" Gideon asked.

"With whatever's got you like this."

"It's not-"

"It's something."

Gideon swallowed hard, then asked, "What if she hadn't been okay?" The question hung between them for a long moment, then Fabian sighed heavily.

"Fuck, Gid, she is, so why does it-"

"It matters because other people aren't so god-damned lucky. It matters because next time, we might not be. And don't go saying there won't be a next time, I'm not that naive."

"I wasn't going to," Fabian said evenly. "But what can we do about it? She _is_ okay, and fuck if I'm not going to be over the moon about that."

"I don't know," Gideon admitted, pulling out a chair of his own. "And that might be the worst part. Being so powerless."

Fabian nodded; there wasn't much he could say to that. There wasn't much anyone could say.

"Sorry," muttered Gideon.

"No; don't do that. Just- Hold off on the deep shit?"

Gideon nodded, and forced a smile for his brother's sake, though inside he was asking the same question over and over: _What if. What if._


	4. Sorry

**A/N:** This is the first thing I ever wrote for Gideon, but I recently revamped the ending. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, never have, never will.

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Gideon had been studiously avoiding Molly for two hours now, and it was getting harder with every second. His older sister, always fierce when deceived, had reached new levels of anger that even Gideon didn't want to handle. Fabian – the admittedly more practical twin – had already had his lashing and was now happily practising his quidditch skills. But Gideon didn't want the lecture – he didn't regret lying to Molls; it was the only way the trick would work anyway.

He didn't want to apologise; and he certainly wasn't going to lie to Molly again – apart from being caught, Gideon didn't feel it was right to lie about being sorry. So instead he was just going to sit up here and hope Molly wouldn't find him. Of course, food would be a problem eventually… and oh MERLIN, he was a Gryffindor! Gideon shook his head at the situation. How could he call himself brave if he couldn't even face his own sister? He couldn't, the voice in his head whispered, and Gideon began the climb down from the top of the tree.

Molly was waiting at the base, and her crossed arms and stormy expression almost made Gideon reconsider living in a tree. Then again, he wasn't angry with her; he understood why Molls was upset – just not why it was such a big deal. So what if he and Fabian had told her the pen pal she had been writing was a girl from France; it wasn't like Molls had ever told "Odetta" anything personal… Besides, spelling the quill to write in a girls handwriting had been a pretty impressive piece of magic. Legendary, in fact. Something that would go down in pranking history – if only Molly hadn't found out.

He had reached the bottom of the branches now, and as Gideon jumped down, she uncrossed her arms and began to yell. At first it was a meaningless stream of words, until Gideon felt a stinging sensation on his shoulder. And then another on his stomach. Shite, he thought. She'd gotten to the cursing stage. Quickly casting a shield charm around himself, the wizard began to feel the first pangs of guilt. Yes, it had been an incredible trick – but she was his sister. The one who defended him, whether he needed it or not; the one he had spent Christmas evenings with, watching the fire; and the one who didn't deserve to be the recipient of this particular prank. "Listen, Molls," he began, but Molly stormed away, and Gideon was left alone with the words of his apology stuck in his throat.

She ignored him for a solid two days, Fabian steadfastly staying out of it. "I've already got clear, mate. Don't want her getting ticked at me again."

By the third day, Gideon had begun to despair of ever making things right, and so straight after breakfast, he took his broom and went into the garden, desperate to clear his mind. Gideon may not have been the most graceful flyer, but he always enjoyed the activity; far more so than watching others play the game. He didn't notice the dark clouds on the horizon, didn't hear the thunder until the storm was already upon him.

There were a few close calls with the lightning, but Gideon made it back all in one piece, soaked to the bone, and desperately craving a cup of coffee. When he slipped in the back door, however, he was greeted not by an empty kitchen, but a rather crushing hug.

"Never," said Molly emphatically, "Do that again. Ever."

Gideon nodded dumbly, mostly because the air had all been squeezed from his lungs. "Moll," he wheezed, and his sister loosened her grip. "I really am sorry."

"You had better be, idiot," said Molly fondly. "Never again, okay?"

"Which?" Gideon asked impishly, ducking quickly as Molly aimed a swat at his head. "I'm kidding, Molls. No more flying in thunder storms. Promise."

"And?"

"And I'd really like some coffee." And ducking around his sister, Gideon went into the kitchen proper, shaking his head slightly as the storm raged outside.


	5. Ducky, Part I

**A/N:** So this is one of the only things I have written which is truly purely 100% happy. Which I realised, as I was writing it, that the happy stuff is harder to write because it's a bit boring. So I hope this turned out alright. It's a Charlie and Gideon mini adventure, so enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Queen Rowling owns everything.

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The first time Gideon visited Victoria Park, he had been seven years old and fleeing a lunch with Aunt Tessie. Fabian had been ill that day, so a usually uncomfortable meal swiftly became tortuous. It had been an hour before he was discovered, and by the time he was dragged back home, Gideon was covered in mud from playing with the ducks.

It was his first solo adventure, and so the ducky pond in Victoria Park remained a special place for Gideon. His visits there were few and far between, until Charlie was born. It had all started with the duck in the Hogsmeade shop window, but their visits to the ducky pond had grown beyond an interest in the animals.

Since Gideon had gotten his apparition license the year before, he would take Charlie out to lunch whenever he could. And each time, his nephew would insist upon seeing the ducky pond. The tradition, Gideon knew, was somewhat - no, incredibly - silly, but they'd get bread from the nearby bakery, feed the ducks, and always return a bit muddier than before.

This particular Thursday, the sky was clear and Gideon could tell, as he walked up the path to the Burrow, that mud would be the least of his problems. Despite the (rapidly shrinking) distance, Gideon could just make out a high-pitched chant: "Ducky day! Ducky day!"

Smiling to himself, Gideon knocked on the Burrow door, accepted the prefunctuary hug Molly bestowed on him, only to nearly lose his balance as Charlie took his knees in a flying tackle.

"Uncle Gid!"

"Woah there, kiddo," Gideon said, reaching down and scooping up his nephew, Charlie's legs swinging wildly as Gideon spun him around.

"I wish you wouldn't do that, Gid," said Molly reproachfully, only the twinkle in her eyes betraying that the scolding was mostly in jest.

"He likes it, Molls," Gideon said, rolling his eyes.

"More, please!" Charlie agreed.

Molly shook her head slightly, and Gideon sighed, moving Charlie to his hip.

"Well, Charlie, we can spin all day, or we can go see the ducks…"

Charlie's eyes gleamed and he said decisively, "Ducks."

"Right then," said Gideon, giving Molly a one-armed hug, "Ducks it is. See you at one-thirty, sis."

"And not a minute later," Molly warned, holding the door so Gideon could go out into the garden.

Both arms encircling Charlie now, Gideon asked, "You ready to go pop?"

Charlie nodded, squeezing his eyes tightly closed.

"On three, then. One, two, three," and Gideon spun on the spot, disapparating and reappearing a few blocks away from their usual bakery.

"All good, Charlie?" Gideon asked, the question merely a formality. He hadn't splinched anyone before, but he knew his nephew would be screaming in pain if he'd slipped up.

"Yep."

"Brilliant. Eyes closed a bit longer, yeah?" Gideon asked, carrying his nephew out of the alley that served as a safe apparition point.

"Right, down you go," Gideon said, as they turned onto the main road, keeping hold of Charlie's hand.

The bakery was markedly empty, and so it was just a few minutes later when the pair reached the entrance to Victoria Park, Gideon looking around furtively to check if they were alone.

"Hold still, buddy," Gideon asked, pulling his wand from its hiding place in his jacket. A quick wave of his wand, and Gideon had temporarily bonded to Charlie, the charm inspired by muggle kids being leashed by their parents. "Now, no wandering, 'member? Cause you'll pull me along with you."

Charlie nodded energetically, then turned and sprinted for the ducky pond, short legs pumping madly. Suppressing a groan, Gideon jogged behind him, easily keeping pace.

"What'd I say about wandering off, Charlie?" Gideon asked, mock-wheezing.

"Didn't say nothing about running off," Charlie retorted.

"Didn't say anything," Gideon corrected absentmindedly. "And I suppose you're right. Maybe give me a little warning next time, eh, Charlie?"

The boy nodded, briefly chastened, then abruptly asked, "Are you getting old, Uncle Gideon?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, you're all out of breath."

"No, Charlie, I'm not getting old. Not yet, anyway."

"Good. Old is no fun." Charlie paused again, his brow furrowed for a moment, then he held up his hands. "Feed the ducks now?"

"Sure thing," said Gideon, who had been tearing up the load they'd bought earlier. "Here you go, buddy," and the older boy tipped a handful of crumbs into his nephew's outstretched palms.

"Tanks." Charlie turned to face the pond, which was clear and flat. The ducks were swimming towards the edge, and Charlie flung the bread up in the air in their direction, whispering, "Come here, duckies."

Gideon gave him another handful of breadcrumbs, by which time the ducks were within a few feet of the two boys.

"Keep it coming," Charlie ordered.

"Yessir," Gideon replied, mock-serious, as they repeated the process. All too soon (for Charlie, in any case) the bread was gone, and the ducks, momentarily sated, waddled back into the pond. Charlie sighed happily, watching them swim for several long moments before plopping down. Gideon came and sat next to him, and the two watched the ducks. Gideon was always impressed by Charlie's capacity to sit quietly, when he was interested in something, and today was no exception. It wasn't until Charlie's stomach rumbled a second time that the peaceful mood was broken.

"Time for lunch, buddy?"

"Where we going?"

"How about that cafe?"

Charlie shook his head emphatically.

"Want to go back to the bakery?"

Another no.

"Help me out, Charlie, I'm no legilimus."

"Um…. nuts."

"You want nuts for lunch?" Gideon repeated, struggling to keep a straight face.

Charlie nodded. "There's a cart 't sells 'em, Uncle Gid."

"Is this a cart near the ice cream shop?" Charlie beamed in reply, and Gideon shook his head, offering his hand to his nephew. "Alright, Charlie, let's go get spoiled rotten." Maybe it wasn't the most nutritious of meals, but as Gideon walked back to the apparition point, a very happy Charlie asleep in his arms, Gideon knew this was one rule worth breaking.


End file.
